Cold and Jaded, Tired and Faded
by smc-27
Summary: He was the town's youngest widower. She was its newest resident. He was quiet and confused. She was sarcastic and knew exactly what she wanted. But he was the only one who could get to her, and she was the only one who could understand him. AU LP Oneshot


**A/N:** Totally AU. Came up with this when I was away and got around to finishing it today.

**----**

It wasn't supposed to be like that.

She wasn't supposed to be shipped off from L.A. to some nothing and nowhere little town in a part of the country she'd never been to and didn't care to ever go. But she supposed that was the price you pay for being the best at what you do.

She loved L.A. She grew up in Pasadena with her father, and she rarely ever had a complaint. She left only for work or a rare vacation. She was a higher up in one of the coolest labels on the west coast, and she had worked hard to get the position she had. She wanted more. She didn't think that her promotion would come with a move. But, as her boss explained it, if she wanted a new title and a bigger paycheck and more responsibilities, then she'd have to make the move. Take it or leave it, he'd said.

So she took it. She had no idea if that was the right choice. She supposed that remained to be seen. But she spent the rest of the day crying in her office, dreading leaving Brooke and Julian, her two best friends and the only married couple she could actually tolerate.

She called Brooke, almost hyperventilating, and it was agreed that they each needed to take the evening, get drunk, talk it out, and see how bad things really were. In Brooke's words, tequila always made everything a little clearer.

"So you move to North Carolina," Brooke said after her fourth margarita. She was in the process of making more. "You'll visit. We'll visit you. It can't be so bad. I hear Raleigh's nice."

"I'm not moving to _Raleigh_. I'm moving to Tree...Tree Trunk? Tree...Fuck! I don't even _know_," Peyton said, dramatically resting her forehead on her arms and sliding her empty glass across the counter. "_What_ am I going to _do_?"

"Peyton," Brooke said, stepping around the counter to sit next to her friend. She took one of Peyton's hands in hers and forced the blonde to look her in the eye. "You know I love you. You know I love having you here. But...you need to get the hell out of L.A."

"I do not!"

"You do too, and don't even think of arguing again," Brooke said sternly. "L.A...It's not where you're supposed to be, okay? It's...It's never _felt_ like you. You know? It feels like me and Julian. It doesn't feel like you."

"That's...ridiculous," Peyton said. She grabbed the bottle of tequila off the counter and poured some into her glass, pounding it back straight and making herself wince. She should have known better.

"It's not ridiculous. You're...You've done amazing things here. But it's not...I just feel like there's more out there for you."

Brooke rounded the corner again, and Peyton tried to decode what that might have meant. Sure, running the label - being the 'East Coast President' of the label - would be amazing, and it was basically everything she'd worked for. She'd spent 10 years doing insane amounts of work, and it was finally paying off. She could finally say she'd made her own dreams come true, and so what if she had to go to...Tree Whatever...to do it?

But she knew Brooke. That wasn't what Brooke was saying at all.

"You're talking about a man," Peyton said, narrowing her eyes and gesturing towards Brooke with her glass. Brooke shrugged innocently as she switched on the blender. The girls merely stared at each other until the drinks were mixed. "Believe it or not, finding a husband isn't my top priority."

"Exactly!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Peyton asked as Brooke refilled their glasses.

"It _means_ that you've gone on two dates in the past three months, and _both_ of them have been set ups."

"Because you made me!"

"I know!" Brooke cried. She wasn't speaking very clearly. It had a lot to do with the tequila, she was sure. "You need to open yourself up to the possibility of finding someone."

"Well, forgive me if my track record tells me otherwise," Peyton mumbled, taking a sip of her drink. "I mean, look at my mom and dad. High school sweethearts, and then tragedy. Ellie and Mick. Me and Jake. We were in love, and then he leaves to...God knows where."

"It's not all tragic, honey," Brooke said gently.

"Oh, really," Peyton stated incredulously.

"Me and Julian," Brooke said with a smile.

"You guys were...inevitable," Peyton insisted.

Brooke smiled and reached for Peyton's hand over the counter. "Okay, so don't you want to find _your_ inevitable?"

Peyton didn't know what to say to that. Yes, she did.

She found it really hard to believe that it was in Tree Whatever, North Carolina.

----

If he had known when things started out, that they'd turn out the way they did, he wouldn't have fought so hard.

Okay, that's not entirely true. He still would have fought, he just would have been more prepared for how it was all going to go. He would have known that his father was a man capable of such intense, horrible things. He would have known that he'd become close to the brother he never knew, and that his best friend would get married to that brother. He would have known that his mother would take his little sister leave their hometown to travel the world with a man she met. He would have known he'd publish a novel before he hit 20, and be a successful basketball coach. He would have known that he'd end up inheriting the auto dealership his father used to run, and that it would be impossible to sell the damn thing, so he'd end up running it. Well, he'd staff it and be a figurehead, but stay away as much as possible.

He would have known that his wife would be run off the road and killed by a drunk driver.

The thing was, everything but that last one was not so bad. He could deal with his father and his brother and his mom and the rest of it. But the loss of his wife, the woman he'd loved for years, was too much to bear.

He fell into a bit of a hole, as Haley called it. He went to work, though Skills ran most of the drills, and he 'wrote', but it wasn't anything worth reading. He'd sip scotch in the evenings, in the quiet of his empty home, reading all his wife's favourite books. He wore his sleepless nights in lines on his face and bags under his eyes.

Haley was worried. Ridiculously worried. Lindsey had been her best friend, too, and they were all grieving, but it had been just over a year since that accident, and she felt that it was time for Lucas to pull it together.

"Hey buddy," she called out when she walked into the house. He was sitting on the sofa with a book in his lap and a cup of coffee in one hand.

"Hey."

"How are you?" she asked. She took the book from him so he couldn't use it as a distraction.

"Alright," he said. That was the other thing. He'd become less and less of a conversationalist over the months.

"Jamie wants you to come to his game tomorrow," Haley said. "You think you can make it?"

"Yeah. I'll be there, Hales," he said quietly. He knew what she was doing. They all knew that Jamie was the one person that Lucas would come out of his cave for. "How is he?"

"Better than you," she said, almost too softly for him to hear. "You know I'm worried about you."

"You tell me once a week."

"Lucas..."

"I know, Haley," he said, shaking his head. "I'm trying."

"Are you really?" she asked delicately. She didn't question his behaviour often. Sometimes she felt it was necessary. "I'm not criticizing you, Luke, I'm just...You need to start living again."

"You mean dating," he stated incredulously. That sounded like just about the worst idea in the world. "Haley, that's...you can't just say that."

"Okay, maybe not dating, but...You need to get out of your house," she said, shaking her head.

"And do what? Go where? I don't want to meet..._women_," he said, as though that were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever suggested to him. And she'd suggested group therapy, a psychologist, animal rehab (or something or another involving horses), and a hypnotist. Yeah. He wasn't so quick to jump into any of those things.

"This seclusion...this was never really you, and I'm scared that you're turning into something...some_one_...that you aren't."

"I'm not the same person I was before," he admitted quietly, maybe for the first time.

And that was the truth of it all. He wasn't the same man who'd go out with family and friends every weekend, take day trips across the state just to take them. He wasn't the same guy who'd play mindless video games with Nathan and Jamie while Lindsey and Haley talked in the next room over coffee. He wasn't the same man who could write about love and life in such a profound way that people thought they wanted to _be_ him, to life _his_ life.

But no one wanted his life. He wasn't crazy enough to think that he didn't want to live it, either, it just needed some changes. He hated to admit that Haley was right.

But he also couldn't take the gold band off his left hand.

----

The first day she spent at her new office in Tree Hill, she spent most of her time crying. Nothing was right. Construction was at a stand-still, she had no applicants for jobs, no artists, no furniture, no...No nothing.

She was screwed, basically, and she was the boss. She was the one who had to figure it all out. She got the construction sorted all out and started rewriting job postings. She did it all from the (almost) comfort of the two story brick home she'd bought. It was a nice place, with white shutters and three bedrooms. She had no idea what she needed three bedrooms for, but the place was furnished, which was a plus, and all she had to do was wait for her boxes to arrive from L.A.

Well, she hated waiting. She grabbed her sneakers, her iPod, and took off jogging, like she always did when she needed to clear her head. She jogged through the main part of town, which took all of about five minutes, and she jogged through an adjacent neighbourhood to the one she now lived in. She followed a path through an old park past a basketball court, then that path led her straight back to her own part of town.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tree Hill. As she stood in her kitchen sipping cold water, she realized how very far she'd moved from L.A. This wasn't L.A. This wasn't even one subdivision of L.A.

She couldn't tell if she loved or hated it for that.

----

It wasn't a date. She was a woman from the school, a teacher both he and Haley knew, and Haley, the meddler that she was, insisted that the three of them go for coffee one day after school when there was no basketball practice. The look Lucas sent her said that he didn't appreciate her pushing him into something.

But that was on one hand. On the other hand, he kind of did appreciate it. They both knew he wouldn't just do something like that - he wouldn't initiate it - but that he'd have an alright time once he was out. The more he thought about that conversation with Haley a couple weeks earlier, the more he realized she was right. And he was making progress. He was putting effort into it. He and all the guys went out for beers one Saturday night. He took Jamie to a nearby museum, since Nathan wasn't interested and Haley wanted Lucas and Jamie to have some one-on-one time. He and Skills took their team to a minor league basketball game as a 'team building exercise' (that actually worked).

He was trying. And he wouldn't admit to Haley - though he knew she'd know anyway - but he actually felt better to be getting out of his routine and back into his old one; the one that had him interacting with people. And smiling. He'd kind of missed that.

But that coffee, well, it wasn't exactly perfect. He was starting to realize why Alison was single. Her five cats and hobby of designing and sewing clothes for small dogs and cats didn't exactly make her sound like the most exciting woman in the world. She was sweet and there wasn't anything wrong with her, and Lucas found her kind of entertaining, just because she was so...eccentric...but he didn't necessarily want to do anything more with her than see her in the halls at school.

Haley smiled at him in the car as he drove her home, and he rolled his eyes as he smirked.

"Admit it," she said. "You had fun."

"Yeah. And if I ever need a plaid shirt and cowboy hat for a chihuahua, I know who to call," he said, making them both laugh hysterically.

That was when Haley started to tear up. It had been far too long since she heard her best friend laugh that way.

----

"No. I don't want a moon roof. I want a convertible," she insisted. She was standing in the middle of the town's only auto dealership, haggling with a salesman who she was convinced had no clue what she was actually looking for, no matter how many times she told him. "Do you have _anything_ you can show me?"

"The C70, Eric," a stranger said, coming out of nowhere. He was just walking past, and it seemed he was distracted by the papers in his hands. "It just came in yesterday."

"Thank you," she said, finally happy to have found someone who knew what they were talking about. The man nodded, but didn't even look at her, and she didn't really care. She just wanted to see the car.

"Thanks Mr. Scott," the salesman said.

"Call me Lucas!" the man shouted over his shoulder. He sounded irritated. Peyton let herself smile for some reason. Maybe she just wanted someone to share in her misery.

So Peyton test drove that car, and she loved it. It was exactly what she wanted, not that she ever would have thought she'd drive a Volvo. She sold her BMW before she left L.A. and she hadn't put much thought into what kind of car she'd drive. She knew when she stepped onto this lot that her selection would be limited, but she was certain she'd find something. With the help of that guy, who Eric, her salesman, told her was the boss, she'd found her car.

When she finished all the paperwork and set up payment, she was handed the keys to her new car. She saw Mr. Scott as she was walking past the reception desk, and she smiled. He was wearing jeans and a black polo shirt, and she loved that he was dressed so casually, and he was the one in charge.

"I just wanted to say thank you again," Peyton said sincerely, stealing his attention from a folder in his hand.

"Oh. I'm just glad you found what you were looking for," he said, smiling just a little bit. "Take care."

"You too," she said, smiling at him.

He was kind of attractive, she decided. Really attractive. Blue eyes and blonde hair and and a cute little dimple on his cheek. He wasn't all clean shaven, which she'd always found attractive - she liked her men with a little stubble - and he had a nice smile.

But when he opened that folder again, she noticed a ring on his finger. That always seemed to be the case. She'd meet someone with potential, and he'd be married. Brooke warned her about this over the years. She'd said that if Peyton didn't find someone by the time she was 29, it'd only get harder. Peyton, of course, hadn't believed it. She still didn't believe it entirely. And yet every once in a while, something would happen to further prove Brooke's theory, and Peyton would roll her eyes and curse...well, just curse.

As she was walking towards the door, a tall man with dark hair, about her age, pulled the door open, smiled and held it for her. He said, "no problem," when she thanked him, and she was starting to think that there were finally some things about this town that she liked. Only she caught sight of a ring on that guy's finger too. Surely not all the men were married though.

"Who was that?" Nathan asked as he approached Lucas.

"She just bought a car."

"She's hot."

"You're married," Lucas said, raising one eyebrow.

"I can look," Nathan said. He shrugged his shoulder and Lucas let out a laugh and shook his head. "You should find out her name."

"You mean open up her financial records and violate her privacy by looking for her information just because she's pretty?" Lucas asked incredulously.

"Yes," Nathan said. "And you just said you think she's hot."

"No, I said she's pretty. There's a difference."

"Whatever," Nathan mumbled. "You done in this place? Haley's gonna kill me if we aren't home by 4:00 to help make dinner."

"It's 4:13," Lucas said, checking his watch.

"Dammit," Nathan said. He turned to head for the door, and Lucas laughed and said goodbye to his employees before following his brother.

It was things like that, Lucas missed most about having a wife. It was silly really, because it wasn't just the knowledge that there was someone waiting for him when he got home. He actually missed being yelled at for being late, or forgetting whatever groceries she'd asked him to pick up, or not taking off his shoes at the door. He missed all those things.

He missed _her_.

The good days weren't as rare as they used to be anymore. It seemed the bad days were almost gone, and instead he had bad moments or bad hours. Someone would ask how he was doing and he'd think of her. Or he'd turn on the television and her favourite movie would be on, or he'd find a sock in his drawer that she'd complained about not being able to find. Sometimes he'd smile thinking about her. A lot of times, he'd just be overcome with anger or hurt or maybe both.

It was all getting a little easier. But it was still pretty damn hard.

----

She needed a break from work. Her boss had warned her that her first month or so would be buried in construction and painting and decorating. Hiring and maybe firing employees. Doing all the things she probably wouldn't want to do, but had to do.

She'd just finished a string of four interviews - none of which were any good - as her painters kept interrupting to ask about colours and trim and whatever else. She couldn't sit in that space any longer. She wasn't sure if it was the paint fumes that were getting to her, or if it was just that she didn't want to deal with any of it anymore.

She was starting to think that being the boss wasn't all it was made out to be.

She went home and changed into a pair of jeans and a Lakers tee shirt that she stole from her half brother. She pulled on her most comfortable pair of sneakers, and tied her hair back into a ponytail.

She wondered, as she started walking down the sidewalk and towards...anywhere, if she'd made a mistake by moving to this town. Maybe she couldn't handle the responsibilities of running her own branch of the label. Maybe it was all too much. What if it was a failure? What if she couldn't get anything done properly, and it all went wrong? What if she got fired after buying a house and a car?

She was worrying herself crazy, and she knew, when she reached the cemetery, that she'd found the one place that could ease her mind. It was weird, probably, but she'd spent so much time in cemeteries as a kid that they kind of soothed her. It was always quiet and well taken care of. There were very few, if any, people around, and there were usually beautiful trees and a bench or two to sit on.

As she walked down the main path through the cemetery, she noticed a few names, but none that really stood out, until she ventured onto the grass and towards a row at the edge of the cemetery. She saw the last name Scott, and though she'd only met a few people, that was one of the names she remembered.

She was busy reading one head stone - the first of three with the last name - and she didn't notice the man kneeling only a few feet away. When she looked up and saw him, he was just staring at her, and she looked surprised to see anyone, let alone him. They just kind of looked at one another for a few moments, then she realized she really should say something. She knew how intrusive it always was for her when she'd be visiting with her mom and someone would walk past.

"I'm sorry. I didn't...I wasn't listening. I was just...walking," she explained, stumbling over her words.

"That's okay."

"I just find cemeteries...comforting," she admitted. She had no idea why. The way he was looking at her - like she'd lost her mind - told her that she should have kept that part to herself. "I'm sure that sounds crazy."

"Not exactly," he said quietly, shaking his head a little.

She got the impression that it might have been better if she'd just kept her mouth shut. It didn't seem like he wanted to chat, and perhaps her looking at the headstones of the family members he'd lost was making him uncomfortable. She offered him a nod and started on her way again.

"Sorry," he called out before she could get too far. She turned around and toyed with the fabric at the bottom of her shirt. "I was just..."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head and holding up her hand. "I understand."

"I was done anyway." He stood and dusted off his jeans, and she smiled at him. She glanced at the name on the headstone, but all it said was Scott on the side she could see. "I'm Lucas."

"Peyton Sawyer," she said, shaking the hand he'd extended.

"You're new in town."

"How could you tell?" she mumbled sarcastically as they started walking. "I just moved from L.A. to start a record label out here." He nodded like he'd heard something about it. "It's...a bit of a change."

"I'll bet," he said, looking to his feet. "Tree Hill's...It's a quiet town."

"Apparently."

"How are you liking it so far?"

"It's...I'm adjusting," she said. "It's different. I kind of miss my dad and my friends." She didn't normally say things like that to anyone, let alone perfect strangers. "But it's...What's the world without a little life-altering change every once in a while?"

He just looked at her. No one had ever said something so profound. It almost all made sense when she put it like that. Almost. Not quite. But almost.

"What?" she asked when he didn't say anything.

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "Nothing...it's just...that sounds about right."

"Experience tells me so," she said quietly.

"Yeah, me too."

She wanted to ask more, but she really didn't want to pry. He wasn't offering up any information, and that usually meant that he didn't want to say anything. She completely understood that. She didn't exactly want to launch into her tale of the people she'd lost either.

They arrived at his car and he pulled his keys from his pocket, and she still didn't really know what to say. "So maybe I'll see you around," he said casually.

"Yeah," she said, smiling at him nervously. "I'm sure you will."

He laughed and she waved as he opened his car door and she started walking away. She really didn't want to be misleading or violate his privacy at all, but she really wanted to know who it was that he was visiting. It wasn't Dan Scott, and it wasn't Keith Scott. She wandered back into the cemetery towards the headstone he'd been kneeling in front of, and she read the words etched there.

She almost gasped when she saw it there, that one word.

_Wife_.

Lucas Scott wasn't married, he was widowed. Her throat got a little tight, and selfishly, all she could think was that she was glad she'd spoken to him before she learned that. She wouldn't have known what to say to him if he had told her.

She thought maybe she had a little more in common with Lucas than she ever would have thought. She had no idea why, but she thought maybe she could help him in some way. But she knew grief so well that she had to wonder if he'd want the help at all.

----

She was rummaging through her pockets and purse as she stood at the counter of the town's best coffee shop on Monday morning, but it appeared she'd misplaced her wallet. Actually, she knew exactly where it was. She'd taken it out of her purse the night before as she'd finally gotten around to filling out official change of address forms. She must have left it on her living room table.

"I'm sorry. I don't have anything," she told the woman working behind the counter. She was embarrassed, but the woman didn't seem bothered. "I'm so sorry."

Out of nowhere, someone handed the woman a five dollar bill, and when Peyton turned, she saw Lucas there with a petite brunette woman standing at his side. He could tell Peyton was about to say something to the effect of _'I can't accept this',_ or _'you don't have to do that'_.

"It's on me," Lucas said before she could even say a word.

"I can't..."

"It's a coffee. I won't have to file for bankruptcy," he insisted.

"Well, thank you," she said, smiling at him. She glanced at the other woman, who was grinning in something like amusement. "I'm Peyton."

"Oh!" Lucas said, turning to Haley. "I'm sorry. This is my best friend and sister-in-law, Haley James Scott."

"Nice to meet you," Peyton said, shaking Haley's hand. She wanted to talk more, to learn more about Lucas' family and his brother, but she was running very late, and she was meeting with at least four different people before lunch. "I'm sorry. I'm in a massive rush, and I just spent like, five minutes looking for my wallet, so..."

"No problem," Lucas laughed.

"Thanks again."

"Good to meet you," Haley said as Peyton started towards the door. She waited until Peyton was outside and Lucas had ordered their coffees before she spoke again. "Hmm."

"What?" he asked as they chose a table and sat down.

"She's nice," Haley said simply.

"Yeah, seems like it," Lucas said. She knew what he was doing. He was downplaying the situation so that she wouldn't pester him about it.

"She's very pretty."

"Hales," he groaned, tipping his head back.

"She is," she said with a shrug.

"Yes. She's beautiful," he admitted.

Haley knew him so well that she had to smile. She had only said Peyton was pretty. He'd taken it one step further and called her beautiful. She honestly didn't know if she'd heard him use that word since Lindsey died, and if he had, it certainly wasn't to describe a woman. Haley wasn't naive enough to think that this woman was going to be some miracle worker, helping Lucas out of his funk, but she was pretty sure it meant something.

"You like her," Haley said quietly, like it surprised her.

"I don't _like_ her." Lucas swirled his coffee in his cup and avoided eye contact. "She seems nice, and she's new to town. I'm being nice."

"You like her," Haley insisted, leaving no room for argument as she sat back in her chair. "I think it's good. It's _great_."

"You don't know anything about her."

"Neither do you," she reminded him. "But you'll tell me as you learn."

He laughed and shook his head as she smiled at him across the table, and the thing was, he couldn't say that he didn't want to learn. The guilt over that - well, maybe not guilt, per se, but something - was making him crazy. He did like Peyton. She seemed sweet, and he felt there was more to her than he'd seen, and he kind of wanted to know more.

Haley didn't tell him, but she saw Peyton again later that day at the grocery store, and she invited the town's newcomer to a barbecue the following weekend. Peyton had seemed reluctant to accept the invitation, but Haley insisted. Peyton found herself keying Haley's address into her iPhone as they stood there in the frozen foods aisle.

----

A couple nights before the gathering at Haley's, Peyton woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. She looked at the clock and saw that it was just after three in the morning, and she tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use. Her mind was racing, and she needed to get out of her bed before she drove herself crazy tossing and turning. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a UCLA tee shirt, and she started walking.

She found herself walking along that path she'd made a habit of running, and when she approached that old basketball court, she noticed that there was someone playing. It frightened her at first, since it was dark and late and she didn't know anyone in town. She realized she didn't have her phone with her, and all she had to defend herself was her house key. She actually laughed when she recognized who was there. She was reminded for the thousandth time that she wasn't living in L.A. anymore, and she probably didn't need to work herself into a panic every time she saw someone in the dark.

Her laughter called his attention to her, and she waved nervously. "Hi."

"Hey," he said breathlessly. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking," she said with a shrug.

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude," he said, shaking his head gently.

"You didn't," she insisted. She wondered if he was always so nervous. He'd seemed to be every time she'd met him so far.

"You okay?" he asked seriously. He knew why he couldn't sleep - sometimes he just _couldn't_ - but he, for some reason, was worried about this woman.

"I had a weird dream," she confessed quietly, her arms folded across her chest as she looked to the ground.

"What about?" he asked. He didn't know why he cared. He didn't know why he wanted so badly to make conversation with her.

She looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was just being polite, or if he really wanted to know. She wasn't one to open up to anyone. She didn't like to and it made her feel vulnerable or something, and she found herself actually caring what this man thought of her.

But she started talking anyway.

"I had...I had a baby. It was a girl. I was a single mom."

"Why's that weird?" he inquired. He sat down atop the picnic table at the edge of the court, and she sat next to him.

"Because it is," she said with no other explanation.

"Maybe you're pregnant," he said. She could tell he was joking, and she let one corner of her mouth turn up when she looked at him.

"Trust me, that's not it," she said before she could stop herself. He raised one eyebrow, like he was highly amused by her statement. He didn't need to know that it had been far too close to a year since she'd had sex. Maybe more than a year. Oh God, she thought, it'd been _more than a year_.

"I was joking," he said when he noticed she was kind of staring off into space.

"No. No, I know," she insisted, trying to force a laugh.

"I actually read somewhere that if you see a baby in your dream, it's supposed to represent yourself," he said, spinning the ball in his hands.

"That doesn't make sense. I was raised by my dad." And again, she was telling this guy things that usually took her ages to tell anyone she'd met.

"Single parent home, though," he countered. "And you're not answering my question." She turned and looked at him in confusion. "What are you doing walking around in the middle of the night?"

"I walk or run to clear my head," she explained. "Or listen to music really loud, but the neighbours..."

"Yeah, don't do that at this time of night," he said with a laugh. "But you shouldn't walk around in the dark by yourself."

"This town isn't exactly scary."

"You never know," he said quietly.

"Well, I've had my fair share of creepy stalkers," she said, laughing at how absurd that sounded.

"You had a stalker?" he asked worriedly.

"In high school. It was...It's a long story."

"I'll bet," he said, furrowing his brow at her.

"I have a half brother I didn't know until high school. I had never met him, and the stalker pretended to _be_ my brother, and...it was all kind of insane from there," she explained.

He wondered if they had more in common than he could have imagined. "I have a half brother, too."

"Nathan. Haley's husband, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, confused by how she knew that.

"I ran into Haley. She invited me to this thing on Saturday," she explained. He didn't say anything, just nodded and avoided her eyes. "I hope that's okay."

"Oh, yeah," he insisted quickly. "Of course it is. You can meet everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Well, believe it or not, I do have friends," he said sarcastically. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he used sarcasm. He hated to admit that maybe there was some truth to what Haley had said.

Maybe it was that she didn't know about Lindsey yet, though he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long, but he really enjoyed talking to Peyton. She didn't treat him any differently, or walk on eggshells, or steer clear of topics like children (he and Lindsey never got to have them) or death or stalkers. He didn't know if he should tell her about his past right away, or let her find out when it came up. He was kind of torn.

"And a nephew, right? The birthday boy."

"Jamie," he said with a smile. "Yeah."

"Haley showed me pictures," she admitted. "She said you and him are like, best pals."

"He's my buddy," he told her, just boyishly enough to be cute. They were quiet for a few minutes, just sitting there together, then Lucas stood and looked at her with a hint of a smile. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

"I can walk by myself," she insisted as she stood. She crossed her arms petulantly, and he laughed quietly.

"I'm sure you can. I want to make sure you get home safe."

"You're kind of a gentleman," she noted as they started down the path towards her place.

"Kind of."

Lindsey always used to say the same thing.

----

She walked into the back yard at Nathan and Haley's house feeling like she most certainly didn't belong. The sign on the front door directed her to walk around the house and step through the gate, and when she closed that white fence door behind her, she felt a little trapped. There were at least 20 kids running around, laughing and screaming and having the time of their lives, and a few adults milling about, sipping drinks and watching the kids and laughing.

Lucas saw her walk through the gate in her plum coloured sundress, and he smiled a little bit. He honestly hadn't thought she'd show up. Their walk the other night had been nice, but filled with obligatory conversation that he suspected most people had when getting to know someone. It wasn't that he didn't like it, but it felt awkward to him, only because it had been so long since he'd done it. When he left her at her house, she smiled coyly and waited until he was on the sidewalk before turning out the porch light.

He thought that was sweet.

She had a gift in her hands, wrapped in bright green paper, and there was a part of him that couldn't believe she'd gotten Jamie a present. The other part of him thought that she was just the kind of person who wouldn't show up empty handed to a birthday party.

Skills walked up to Lucas with a glass of red Kool-Aid in his hand, shrugging his shoulder at Lucas' questioning glance. "Who's the new girl?" Skills asked.

"Peyton. She just moved from L.A."

"Record label girl?" Skills inquired. Small town. Gossip gets around. Lucas just nodded in response. "She's sexy."

Lucas smiled, but somehow kept himself from laughing. He seriously wondered how many other words his friends were going to use to describe Peyton's looks. Even he could admit that so far, all the words they'd used were true.

"She's sweet," Lucas said softly, watching as she smiled at some of the kids that ran past her. "I'm going to say hi."

Skills was left a little stunned, wondering who the woman really was and how she'd gotten Lucas to come out of his funk. He knew that as much as his friend would deny it, Peyton's presence had a lot to do with Lucas' new lighter demeanor. It was like they were getting their friend back. Skills just smiled and took a sip of his drink as he watched Lucas approach the pretty blonde.

"Hi," Lucas said, smiling politely.

"Hey!" she said, maybe a little too excitedly. "I thought I wasn't going to know anyone."

He laughed and shook his head. "Haley's inside, and Nathan is...somewhere," he said after checking the yard. "Hang on." She looked at him in confusion as he glanced around again. "Jamie!"

A boy with blonde hair and blue eyes she could see from where she stood looked up and smiled, then ran over to Lucas. "Hi!"

"Hey, buddy. This is Peyton," Lucas said.

"Hi, Peyton. Mom said you were coming," Jamie said, sounding far older than he was.

"Happy birthday, Jamie. I brought you something," Peyton said. She already liked Jamie. He was polite and sweet, and absolutely adorable. Silly as it was, she felt at ease knowing that he didn't seem to mind that she was crashing his birthday party.

"Thanks!" Jamie said, taking the gift from her outstretched hand. "I'll go put it with the rest!" He waved and excitedly ran over to a table piled with wrapped presents, and Peyton smiled.

"He's kind of the coolest kid ever, isn't he?" she asked Lucas.

He laughed and nodded, his eyes still fixed on his nephew. "He's awesome." There was a beat of silence between them as they watched Jamie rejoin his friends, playing a game of complicated tag in the big yard. "Want to meet some people?"

"Sure," Peyton said softly.

He introduced her to all his oldest friends. Skills and his girlfriend Lauren, Mouth and his wife Millie, and Junk, Fergie. Haley stepped out of the house as she sent Nathan towards the grill, and she smiled and walked over to greet her guest and introduce Nathan. They talked for a while and Haley pulled Peyton away from the group, insisting that they needed drinks.

It was strange for Peyton, not because she hardly knew anyone, but because she felt like she did know them. They were a close-knit group of friends, but they weren't a clique. The nerves she'd had and worries about fitting in when she arrived had disappeared after only a half hour of talking with these people. They were welcoming her into their lives easily, and she was a little taken aback.

Maybe Tree Hill had some things that L.A. didn't.

She was standing on the deck, watching Skills, Nathan and Lucas run around the yard with the kids after their lunch. She had to smile. It was nice to be around _real people_. The people she'd known before weren't this genuine. They didn't have barbecues or run around with kids. They had cocktail parties and nannies. They didn't wear jeans and tee shirts, or sip sweet tea under the sun with little beads of sweat on their foreheads.

She was, remarkably, finding that maybe she was more suited for life in Tree Hill than she was for life in L.A.

Lucas walked over to her, smiling sheepishly over acting like such a child, and she just laughed and poured him a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table.

"Thanks," he said, laughing at his silliness.

"You are a bunch of big kids," she pointed out.

"It's fun," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You okay?"

She grinned, thinking it was adorable that he was looking out for her. "I'm great."

She wasn't lying and he could tell. He was about to ask her if she wanted to take a walk or something, when Haley shouted that it was time for presents, and all the kids started shouting again and rushing towards the table, grabbing what they'd brought for the birthday boy before sitting in a circle on the grass.

"Peyton!" Jamie called as she and Lucas walked over.

All eyes were on her as she smiled and asked, "what's up?"

"Can I open yours first?" he asked, his blue eyes pleading as he held the gift in his hands. She knelt down next to him, not at all worried about getting her dress or knees dirty with grass stains.

"Of course," she said.

She couldn't see it, but Lucas was standing and watching her interact with his nephew. His arms were crossed, and he had a smile on his face. Haley stood next to him, and she nudged him with her elbow.

"Don't," he hissed.

"You're staring," she whispered.

They both stopped talking when Jamie peeled back the green paper and began opening the box holding his gift from Peyton. She had no clue why he wanted to open her gift first, but she liked that he was so excited for hers, out of all the things he had to open. It felt like a small victory, as crazy as that seemed.

"No _way_!" he shouted when he pulled the lid off the box.

"What is it, Jamie?" Nathan asked curiously, wondering what could cause his ten-year-old to get so worked up.

"An iPod!" Jamie said, pulling the black mp3 player out of the box.

Lucas' eyes went wide and Haley's jaw dropped. Peyton smiled nervously, hoping she hadn't gotten something Jamie's parents didn't want him to have. Nathan just nodded and smiled.

"It's full of all sorts of cool music, too," Peyton explained.

"Thank you so much," Jamie said. He turned to her, hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her. She took a second, but she hugged him back. "Can you hold it while I open stuff?"

"Sure," she said, taking it from him and holding it in her hand as he reached for his next present.

She sat next to him for a while, watching and laughing as he opened gifts, all with the same amount of enthusiasm for each, whether the gift was worth $10 or $100. She decided he was a wonderful kid, full of compassion and happiness. He was grateful to everyone, said thank you you for each gift individually before opening the next. She stood after a while and walked over to where Lucas was standing with Nathan. She was still holding Jamie's iPod, and both men looked at her like she was crazy. Haley walked over, smiling and shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," Peyton said, holding up the gift in her hand. "I should have checked with you first."

"Oh! No!" Haley insisted. "No, it's great. It just means we don't have to buy him one."

"I can't wait for my birthday," Nathan joked. "Seriously, thank you. He's wanted one forever." Peyton sighed her relief and they all laughed. Nathan looked around at empty hands, and said, "we need beer." Lucas just smiled at Peyton and shook his head as Nathan stepped into the house to get them drinks.

Peyton stayed until well after all the kids and parents left, though Haley insisted she didn't need to help tidy up. Peyton insisted there was no way she was leaving before the kitchen was clean, and Haley smiled. She was really starting to like this girl. She started to think they could be friends, or that maybe they already were.

And she also hadn't missed the way Lucas had been smiling all day, and the way he tended to Peyton and let her tend to him. He'd been so self-sufficient, and almost self-involved for so long, it was strange for Haley to see him pulling the door open for a woman (one who wasn't his mother or herself) or letting someone clear his empty plate or glass from the table in front of him. Haley had to question if Peyton already meant more to Lucas than he'd ever admit.

Peyton was standing in the living room of the house looking at the photos on the mantle when she heard someone walk up behind her. She knew the scent of that cologne. She didn't want to. She didn't know what he wanted, or what he could give, or anything else. She didn't know what _she_ wanted, or what _she_ could give. She didn't think that dating a widower was anything she'd ever find herself in any position to do, but she supposed that didn't really count for anything. From what she'd seen, Lucas was just a man.

But wait. Why was she thinking about _dating_ him?

She wanted to blame it on Brooke planting ideas in her head, but she knew in her heart that it was more than that.

"Hey," he said quietly. He didn't know why he always felt so nervous around her, hated that he did.

"Hi," she said, not even bothering to turn to look at him. Admittedly, she had been looking to see if there were any photos of he and his wife. She cared. She wouldn't lie and say that she didn't.

"Want me to walk you home?"

"Are they kicking us out?" she asked, turning around and smiling at him. He blushed a little. She thought it adorable.

"No," he answered simply. She looked at him for a moment, and he wasn't sure if she was trying to figure him out, or if she already knew everything. He honestly didn't know. And he didn't know which would have been worse.

She nodded her head, then sought out Nathan, Haley and Jamie to say goodbye and thank them for having her. She and Haley exchanged numbers, and Lucas tried not to feel jealous that he didn't even have Peyton's number yet.

But that wasn't him. How in the world - _why_ in the world - was he thinking things like that? Maybe...Maybe he was moving on, getting over Lindsey's death. He spun his wedding band on his finger, but stopped when Peyton turned around again to look at him. It was a little late, though. Her eyes flicked down to his hands, and he quickly shifted the focus. He said his goodbyes, promising he'd see the couple Monday at Jamie's ball game.

They were quiet as they started walking. The late-June sun hadn't even started going down, and the air was warm against Peyton's skin. There was a bit of a breeze, and the path they were walking was along some body of water she'd never really noticed before. Now that Lucas knew where she lived, she trusted that whatever route he took would get her home safely.

She was just about to tell him that she was going to start playing 20 questions if he didn't start talking, but he broke the silence that had been lingering for two blocks.

"Jamie loved you."

"I liked him too," she admitted. "He's amazing."

"He is," he said, but then didn't elaborate.

He didn't want to tell her the truth about his...situation. He didn't want to tell her, but he didn't want her to find out from someone else before he got a chance to say anything. He didn't want to deceive her, and while he couldn't explain that, he didn't really want to question it. It was just there, that trust he had for her, and it was probably the most real and honest thing he'd felt in ages.

"Know what I think I like most about Tree Hill?" she asked after a few minutes, pulling him from his thoughts.

"You like it here now?" His tone displayed amusement, and she rolled her eyes when he looked at her.

"It's not so bad," she said softly, looking away from him again. She knew that was a loaded statement. She was okay with it being one. "I like the sky."

"The sky?"

"Mhmm," she murmured. "It's amazing here."

He wondered if he'd just taken it for granted because it was always just there. He wondered why it took her pointing it out to realize that it was beautiful. A clear colour or no colour at all. Blues and pinks. Oranges and reds. Purple sometimes, or black and full of stars.

"I...feel like I have to tell you something" he said quietly.

She took a breath, but did it quietly. She knew what he was going to say, but she didn't want to let on. She thought that she would tell him after he told her the story that she'd seen his wife's gravestone, but she didn't want to pry into his life. She thought that was probably for the best. She wouldn't have to pretend she had no idea, but it wasn't like she'd stuck her nose in his business either.

"Okay," she said, hoping she sounded encouraging.

"I'm..." He had to catch himself already. "I was married."

"Yeah," she said, nodding gently. "I noticed the ring."

"I still...I haven't taken it off," he said, thinking he was sounding stupid. Peyton didn't seem to think so. She wasn't looking at him any differently or judging him at all, and it made him wonder what she'd been through in her life. "It was a year and a half ago. When she died, I mean."

She noticed that he was tense and definitely nervous to be talking about his loss, and she understood that completely. She noticed a bench about 20 feet away, and she stopped walking. He stopped too, and she thought of reaching for his hand, but it felt incredibly wrong to do it. She just started towards the bench to sit.

She seemed to read him like a book. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get used to it, which was a stark contrast to the fact that he loved that he didn't have to explain anything to her for her to understand.

"It was a car accident," he continued once they were sitting. "Drunk driver."

"Wow. Luke..." she said, not caring that it was a short form of his name that she wasn't sure he even liked. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," he said quietly. He had a feeling he was maybe thanking her for more than just saying those words. "It's just...hard. I'm just kind of getting back...back into my life. If that makes sense."

"It does," she was quick to insist. "It really does." He nodded and she knew she had to tell him. "Actually...I noticed at the cemetery," she admitted. The look he gave her was one she couldn't read. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning it."

He actually smiled. She was sweet and kind of adorable. He felt it horribly inappropriate to make note of that while talking about his wife. He studied her for a moment, her head tipped back and looking at the sky turning shades of pink. Her skin was glowing in that sun-kissed way, and her hair was falling around her shoulders. Her dress was wrinkled, and he thought it was perfect that way, a little imperfect. She seemed more relaxed than she was the first time he saw her.

He had to clear his throat, afraid he'd choke on his emotions and his conflict when he realized that she could be the most beautiful woman he's seen. Maybe ever.

"My mom was killed in a car accident," she said softly, not looking at him. "I was eight."

The other night when she'd said that she grew up with only her dad, he hadn't imagined that her mom had died. "Peyton, that's...Wow."

"Yeah," she whispered.

He leaned back and mimicked the way she was sitting, actively trying to take advantage of the sky overhead. "How do you...How?" he asked, knowing she'd hear the question he couldn't phrase.

"You just do," she said softly, looking over at him and offering a smile.

He smiled back. He didn't have to think about it, and it wasn't fake. It just happened.

----

They met up after work the following Thursday, and she bought him a coffee. She insisted that she needed to repay his generosity, but he just shook his head, secretly enjoying how considerate she was. They talked until the coffee shop closed, then found a little diner and had dinner together.

They didn't talk about his wife again, but Peyton was almost blinded by the ring that sat on his finger. She definitely felt something for this man, but he was still in love with someone else.

They started doing a little more. In a group with his friends, who were now maybe her friends too, or one on one. They'd all to Tric, the local 'spot' to hang out, or Lucas would pick her up, insisting she needed to get out of her now-finished office and he was taking her to lunch. He had the summer off, since he worked at the school.

Despite the feeling in her stomach that she was playing with fire, she never once said no when he asked her if she wanted to do something, and she rarely ever thought twice about calling him to see if he had some spare time.

She didn't want to get hurt - she'd always been a little guarded - but she knew Lucas didn't have any ill intentions.

She didn't know what his intentions were at all. She loved spending time with him. Maybe that was as far as it would ever go. She tried her best to be okay with that.

----

Her phone was in her hand, and she wanted to call Lucas. The thing was, he wouldn't have questioned it if she did. The amount of time they'd been spending together told her that maybe he wanted to see her like she wanted to see him. It had been a couple days, and she was driving herself crazy wondering why he hadn't called her or come over. It was the kind of thing teenagers were supposed to do, not 28-year-old women. She shouldn't have been worried. He had no commitment to her, and she shouldn't have expected him to, and she didn't even know if she did.

She just knew that she kind of missed him.

She scrolled through her contacts on her phone before settling on the one she knew she needed.

"Hey!" Brooke answered. "How are you? What's up?"

"I have something to say, and I'm confused, and I don't want you to say 'I told you so'," Peyton said sternly.

"Okay," Brooke drawled out, the worry showing in her voice. "Talk to me."

Peyton took a deep breath, ready to admit out loud for the first time what she'd been feeling for a while. "I met someone, I think," she admitted. "He's...He's kind of amazing, and I think I really like him."

"Well that's great, Peyton," Brooke said softly. She knew that if Peyton had started the conversation with a warning, there was more to the situation, and she didn't want to get all excited before knowing all the information. "So why are you confused?"

"Because it's...messy," Peyton said with a sigh. "He's a widower."

"Um...I kind of thought you'd find someone our age," Brooke said seriously.

Peyton had to laugh. "No, he _is_ our age," she explained. "His wife died last year."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah."

"Well what's he like?" Brooke asked. "Is he interested?"

"I have no idea," Peyton admitted. "He's...We've been spending time together, but he still wears his ring."

"Oh."

"_Exactly_," Peyton proclaimed. "How can I be interested in someone who's so obviously in the middle of like, an emotional disaster?"

"Honey, if there was a rule against it, no one would ever get involved with you," Brooke said.

"Hey!"

"Peyton, I'm serious," Brooke said with a laugh. "I just mean...Everyone has their issues. His issue is just...more intense."

Peyton sighed again as she sat on her sofa. Maybe Brooke was right. Maybe the fact that Lucas lost his wife just meant that Peyton had to tread a little more carefully and take a little more time to build their friendship. Maybe he'd come around eventually.

But did she want to wait for whenever that might be?

"So what do I do?" she asked. If anyone had an answer she could use, it'd be Brooke. Or maybe Haley, but she couldn't talk to Haley about this. There was no way.

"Have you talked about it? About her?"

"A little," Peyton said. "It's not something either of us really want to bring up. Haley says he's getting kind of back to...his old self, but...I don't know. I don't want..."

"To get hurt," Brooke supplied knowingly. "I get it. Trust me. Look how stupid I was in the beginning with Julian just because I was worried he'd turn out like Ryan."

"I know." Peyton had been there, obviously. Ryan, Brooke's 'first love', had broken her heart so badly that it was hard for her to believe that anyone could treat her properly, could prove that love didn't have to hurt.

"So maybe you're his Julian," Brooke said, making Peyton laugh. "I mean it. Maybe you're the one who'll love him and not leave."

"She didn't _leave_, she _died_, Brooke."

"I know. I'm speaking...metaphorically? Is that the right word?" she asked, more to herself than to Peyton. "Whatever. You know what I'm saying."

"I guess," Peyton said quietly.

"Just...don't write him off because of this," Brooke said pleadingly. "If he's someone you're actually interested in, then...maybe it's worth whatever time it takes for him to heal."

Peyton took a breath in relief and smiled. She loved her best friend no matter what. Brooke would always unknowingly say exactly what it was that Peyton needed to hear, and Peyton knew she did the same for Brooke.

Maybe she just needed confirmation that Lucas was worth the wait. She was almost certain that he was.

----

Lucas sat with Haley in his living room one day, her desperate for a break from Jamie, Nathan and Skills playing video games in her living room, and Lucas happy to have a little company. That was new in itself, and Haley wasted no time mentioning it. She was sipping tea on the sofa and reading a some pages he'd written, and he was typing away, sitting in the wing back chair he loved so much.

"This is about Peyton," she stated with confidence and a little awe, setting the papers in her lap.

"What?" he asked, almost choking on the word.

"Please," Haley scoffed. "It's about finding some light at the end of the tunnel, coming from an unlikely source. It's about...Hope, and longing, and realizing that..."

"Hales, it's 12 pages," he said, trying not to laugh.

"12 amazing pages," she insisted quietly. She knew he hadn't been writing, not really. His editor and biggest supporter died with Lindsey. "Do you think it's just a coincidence that you've started writing again after meeting Peyton?"

"I hardly know her," he said. It was a complete lie. He felt he knew her pretty well. Maybe too well, considering.

"But...?"

He smiled at Haley's prodding. She always just wanted the best for him. He adored her for that.

"She understands," he admitted. "The...grief and whatever."

"Okay," Haley said. "But...maybe there's more to it than that." She smiled when he looked at her again, and they both knew she was right. They both also knew how hard it was for him to have those feelings, let alone to speak of them. "And it's a _good_ thing, Lucas."

"Maybe," he said quietly.

"It is. She's great," Haley continued. "And...don't you think that finding someone who understands what you're going through is kind of important?"

"Yes."

"So what's wrong?" she asked.

He sighed and avoided her eyes. He wanted to say that nothing was wrong, but she'd know it was a lie.

"It feels...I can't even look at her without feeling guilty for thinking she's gorgeous. She says things Lindsey would never have said, and I...The other night, I actually thought to myself...you know, this is the kind of woman I've always needed," he said. He feared he'd admitted too much, but Haley was his best friend and he could tell her anything. "How can I think things like that? It's not right."

Haley smiled sadly, her eyes soft, and he knew her tone would be maternal when she spoke. "Lucas, you falling in love again doesn't mean that you didn't love Lindsey," she said, knowing he needed someone to say it. "It just means that you're letting your heart feel something again."

"I'm not...I'm not falling for Peyton," he said, like it was absurd.

"But if you did, you have nothing to feel bad about," Haley persisted. "You know that, right?"

He laughed softly. "Tell me about 300 more times, and I might actually start to feel better."

She laughed and set those pages - the ones that were so obviously about Peyton - on the coffee table, then she looked into her mug for a moment before she realized she needed to say something more.

"Just don't let yourself think that you can't have that kind of love again, Luke. Because you can. And...if you were going to give your heart to someone, I think Peyton might be the one to give it to," she said.

He didn't respond. He merely nodded and took a breath before going back to his writing.

He wrote Peyton's name on the page for a reason he didn't know, almost like it was a reflex or something. He didn't delete it. He left it there, those six typed letters, at the top of the page, almost like it was inspiration or something.

Because if he was being honest with himself, everything that Haley just said was everything he didn't want to tell her that he needed to hear.

----

Peyton texted him to meet her at the beach late one night. It was hot, a stifling late-July night, with a clear sky and a sticky humidity that had him wanting to take off his shirt as soon as he stepped outside. As he walked - he'd opted to enjoy the night air instead of driving - he listened to a playlist she'd added to his iPod of a few as-yet-unreleased artists, and his heart started to race the closer he got to the beach. It was almost midnight, and she wanted to see him, and he'd wanted to see her all day.

He was growing attached to her.

She was so many things in one woman that he didn't know what to do with it all. He wanted to take care of her and look out for her. He wanted to laugh at her ridiculous jokes and be on the receiving end of her biting sarcasm. He wanted to be the only one to notice that there were two distinctly different shades of gold floating in her green eyes. He wanted her to look at him the way he caught her doing sometimes, like she was so intrigued by him that she had to smile.

She didn't ask anything of him. He wanted to ask everything of her. Whatever was there, just naturally existed between them.

As he approached her, he slowed down to observe her a little bit. Her knees were pulled up against her chest and her hair was wild, untamed in the humidity, and she was wearing just a tank top and a pair of dark denim shorts. Her flip flops were at her side, and she was just sitting there, looking out over the water. She was beautiful, even when she wasn't trying. She usually wasn't. It was effortless with her. That rare kind of beauty that was just _there_ and everyone who looked at her knew it.

"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she insisted. "I just didn't want to be alone."

"That...doesn't sound like you," he said, sounding like he knew her better than he actually did.

He didn't know that she was thinking that he knew her better than anyone.

"I'm fine. I just...got lonely or something," she admitted, simply because she knew he wouldn't think less of her for being vulnerable. She'd never really done it in front of him. "How are you?"

In a burst of confidence, he answered her honestly. "Better now."

She looked at him like she was confused, but it only lasted a moment, and then she smiled. She liked those kinds of phrases.

He didn't know if it was his conversation with Haley from a couple days earlier, or merely his own heart and mind realizing that maybe he was ready for something like this. Whatever it was, he thought it felt good to say things like that to Peyton and have her smile at him like that. He didn't want to say those things to anyone else.

A little of the guilt was fading away. A lot of it already had after the things Haley had said. She was right. There was nothing wrong or sinful about him moving on. It didn't mean he hadn't loved Lindsey, it just meant that he was getting some of his strength back, some of the life he used to love. He was starting to love it again.

After reading those pages he'd written over again, he realized that they were about Peyton, and a lot of his change in attitude had to do with her as well. He wanted to thank her for it. He didn't know how.

"Yeah," she said softly, almost too softly for him to hear.

She wanted to take his hand. She thought, after what he'd just said, that it might be alright if she did. She didn't want to push anything, and one little moment between them didn't mean much, she feared. Perhaps he just liked her company and it was nothing more than that. Or maybe he said things like that to all his friends.

"I have to tell you something," she said, scrunching her nose a little bit in a way that he had to smile at. He had no idea what she was going to say, but she looked so cute that he thought it might not matter. "I read your book. The first one."

"Oh," he said, surprised for some reason. It didn't usually catch him off guard to hear those words, but he'd never given much thought to Peyton reading his life story.

"It's...It was beautiful," she said quietly. "I loved it."

"Yeah?" he asked. It was a best seller. He knew it was good. Something about the way Peyton said the words sounded different. More sincere or something.

"Shut up. You know it's amazing," she said, shoving him a little bit.

That was why he liked her. She teased him and made fun of him - no one else really had the nerve to, except his closest friends - and she didn't let him get away with questioning himself or doubting anything. He'd become self-deprecating in the wake of Lindsey's death. Without her to reassure him of things, he didn't know what to think. Peyton was different. It wasn't a constant string of compliments, and he wouldn't have liked it if it was. She'd make simple statements, then roll her eyes when he smiled.

She was different. She wasn't Lindsey. He didn't want her to be.

"Thanks." She didn't say anything, but he didn't want to sit in silence. Most of the time he did. Not that night. He looked at her for a moment, noticing the way the moonlight hit the little dove pendant sitting just below the hollow of her throat.

"What?" she asked, almost laughing.

"Nothing," he said, shrugging his shoulder lazily. "It's a beautiful night."

He'd chickened out. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. She was. He wouldn't even deny it. Couldn't.

"I know," she said, completely unaware of what he really meant. He couldn't blame her. He wasn't exactly being clear.

He needed to be clear.

"You ever think...You ever think sometimes that you ended up in Tree Hill for a reason?" he asked. He thought that might make her understand what he was really getting at. The way he said it and the fact that he was looking at her like he was.

She let herself smile at him then. "Yeah. Sometimes."

More like all the time.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think so too."

He looked back to the water, but she kept looking at him. She was almost certain that they were on the same page, that he meant that maybe he was the reason, and he knew it as well as she did.

She knew he wouldn't kiss her first. He wouldn't. She just knew it.

So she kissed him.

She placed her hand on his cheek and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his before he could say anything. She considered that maybe he didn't want to say anything. She pulled away after a moment, but he met her in the middle again, and he kissed her back without a second thought.

He was a good kisser, though she knew it had to have been a long time since he kissed anyone. It had been almost as long for her. Well, that wasn't entirely true, but that kind of kiss - the kind that actually meant something - she hadn't had one of those in what felt like forever. Lucas wasn't some guy she was set up with, or someone she met in a bar one night and kissed just because after a few drinks it felt like a good idea.

She wanted to kiss Lucas. She genuinely wanted to kiss him. A lot. Maybe since the first day she'd spoken to him.

He didn't feel bad about kissing her, mostly because it ignited something in a part of him - his heart, mind, whatever - that he hadn't even realized he'd been without. He wasn't sure he'd ever really felt anything like that before. Maybe not. He didn't really feel bad about that either. He should have, perhaps, for realizing that Peyton gave him something that Lindsey never has, but he'd stopped comparing them, and it didn't matter who gave him what.

He was there with Peyton, and that was how he wanted it to be.

His hand found her cheek, his fingers resting against her smooth skin gently, and it was all just perfect. Until she felt the metal of his wedding band against her jaw line, and it suddenly wasn't so great anymore. She pulled away, shoving him gently with her hands on his chest.

"Stop. I'm sorry. I...Oh, God," she said, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact.

"What?" he asked worriedly.

"It's just...you're married. You're still married to her, and I...I can't," she said. For some reason, it hurt a lot more than it should have to have to say those words.

"I'm not, Peyton. She's...She's dead."

Only he knew how much of a miracle it was that he could even say those words.

"Yeah?" she said, reaching for his hand. She ran her thumb over the gold band, then looked back to him, their eyes meeting. "_This_ says otherwise."

"I'm..."

"I know. You can't take it off. You aren't ready," she interrupted. "And I'm...I can't be upset about that. I should have...I should have known better."

"Peyton."

"I'm sorry, Luke," she said sincerely. "I'm so sorry. This is...it's so not what you need."

"But I..."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. She stood from her place and he was quick to follow, reaching for her elbow before she could get too far away. She glanced to his hand on her arm, then back at his face, and she looked at him like he was insane to even be touching her.

"If you'd let me get a damn word in, I'd explain," he said, smirking at her, laughing a little when she looked just mildly offended. "You're driving me crazy."

"Well _sorry_!" she cried.

"No," he said in frustration, blowing out his breath and trying to regroup his thoughts. "No. I mean...You just...you're helping me."

"How nice for you."

"Stop talking," he insisted, grinning again. She was nothing if not feisty. "I haven't been...I wasn't looking for this. For _you_. But you showed up here with your attitude and your sarcasm and your beauty, and you're so damn likable. It's like I...that part of me that I lost came back. And it's _still_ coming back, and it's because of you. And it's probably _for_ you." She was looking at him with a blank expression. "I'm an idiot. I'm not explaining this well."

"You think that I'm...I'm helping you?" she asked timidly.

"_So_ much," he promised.

"Well that's a good thing," she said.

"Very good thing." He wanted to kiss her again - God, did he want to kiss her again - but he didn't want her to feel like he wasn't ready. "I like you, Peyton," he admitted. "Very much. More than..." He paused to take a breath. "More than I thought I should."

"Oh," she said softly, looking to the ground. He tipped her chin up with his index finger, forcing her to look at him.

"But I want to like you," he said, smiling at her. "I don't know if that makes sense, but...I want to like you."

She grinned in a way that was undeniably girlish. "I want you to like me too."

"So let me, okay?" he requested, placing both hands on her cheeks. She nodded her head and let out a breath as he smirked.

It felt good for him to like someone. It felt good for her to be liked. They didn't need anything more than that yet.

Well, maybe one thing.

He kissed her gently, just to make it all real or something, and then pulled his left hand down so it was in between them. He looked at that ring on his finger, and for the first time since he got married, he felt like maybe it looked out of place sitting there.

"Lucas," Peyton said, shaking her head.

"No," he said, smiling at her. "No, it's okay."

He took the ring off his finger and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. Something about her being alright with him leaving it on made him adore her even more. Not only did she understand what he was dealing with, but she respected him - and Lindsey - enough to let him take his time. She wasn't asking him for anything more than he could give.

That made him want to give her everything.

He couldn't, and wouldn't, get rid of the ring. There was a box in the attic of his home with a few sacred things he wouldn't throw away. Lindsey's rings and some other items of jewelry he'd bought her over the years. The first printed copies of his novels, with her encouraging and loving words in her handwriting on the first page of each. An invitation to their wedding that they'd saved, and the vows they'd written to each other. He'd place his ring in that box, and that was where it'd stay. He wouldn't look at it or take it out of there again, he just needed to know it was still there, that those pieces of his life with Lindsey were still there.

"Are you sure?" Peyton asked quietly, clearly worried that he was doing something he wasn't ready for.

"Yeah," he insisted, tucking his hand into hers. "I'm sure."

He walked her home, her hand clasped firmly in his, and it was nearly 2:00 in the morning by the time they arrived at her door. They took the long way. They stopped to laugh or talk or share a few kisses, and it took a while to get her home, but neither cared. The slow pace was indicative of how they each needed things to be. Peyton because she was forever afraid of getting her heart broken, and Lucas because he was just getting his feet wet with dating again; with feeling those emotions again, really.

She was already in far deeper than she'd been with anyone in recent years, and the thing that maybe scared her most of all was that she didn't want to run away from it. She felt that if anyone could get that, it was Lucas.

He kissed her goodnight at the door. For 40 minutes. They wound up sitting on her porch swing facing each other, his hands tangled in her hair, and hers touching him anywhere above the waist.

They parted for air and she rest her forehead against his. "I feel like I'm 16," she said breathlessly, laughing at herself.

"I like it," he said, making them laugh even harder. "At least your dad's not gonna come out and yell at me."

"And you're not just trying to get into my cheerleading uniform."

"Hmm," he murmured. She could tell he wanted to make a comment, but he wasn't sure if he should, and she thought that was adorable.

"Stop picturing it," she teased, making his face go pink. She placed her hands on his cheeks then kissed each one, then his forehead, his nose, then his lips. "You're so cute."

"Cute," he stated incredulously.

"_So_ cute." He smiled boyishly and kissed her again, and his hand landed on her thigh, and she knew they had to stop this before she did something crazy like invite him in. "We should...I should get inside."

"Probably," he said before kissing her again. She had to say that she loved how much he seemed to love kissing her.

"Luke," she sighed against his lips.

"I love that you call me Luke."

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's nice," he said. He wanted to tell her that it sounded sexy as hell coming from her, and that he wanted to kiss her every time she said it, just because of the way her lips looked.

He didn't say any of it. He just kissed her again.

"Okay...stop. I...you have to stop doing that," she said, her eyes closed as her cheeks went pink. She felt so desired that it was almost embarrassing her.

"I don't really want to." He smiled when she took a deep breath. "Go inside before I..."

"What?" she asked, her brow kinked in amusement when he didn't finish his sentence.

"Just go. I'll call you tomorrow." He kissed the back of her hand for no reason and then she stood up, pulling him with her.

"I'll get it out of you," she insisted. "I'll _make_ you talk."

"Looking forward to it," he said. Whatever tone of voice that was - wherever it had come from - she'd never heard it before. His words were shrouded in innuendo, and she found that there was a feeling in her stomach that she couldn't ignore.

"Go," she said, more harshly than she intended. She pushed open the door and was going to walk inside without another word, knowing that no matter what she said, it'd start an entire conversation, which would lead to more kissing, which would lead to things they weren't ready for.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back to him, and he kissed her forehead gently.

He didn't say anything more, and she was glad. She smiled at him as she closed the door, and then she tipped her head back against it once it was locked. She waited until she heard him walk down the steps before she let herself squeal a little bit. She wasn't the girl who squealed over men or kissed on her front porch for close to an hour. She wasn't.

For some reason, she was alright with Lucas making her into that girl.

Lucas went home and immediately headed up to the attic to put that ring in the box with all those other belongings. That time, he didn't stop and look through everything else in that box, not like he had all the other times he'd placed something in there. He merely took the ring from his pocket, put it back into the small box it was purchased in, and set it next to the ones holding Lindsey's rings. He didn't need that ring anymore.

He didn't need to hang on so tightly to something that was long gone.

----

He was stretched out on his back with one arm behind his head and a book in his other, reading in the grass near the River Court when Peyton walked up and looked down at him. Her hair fell around her face, and she was standing right in the sun, making her look sweet and just gorgeous.

It had been a month since those first kisses and the admission of feelings for one another. They were moving at a snail's pace, and it was perfect. They were just 'dating'. They'd barely done more than just kiss one another and talk for hours. They'd go to dinner and to Jamie's games, or they'd spend time with Nathan and Haley or Skills and Lauren or Mouth and Millie. They were treading lightly, each aware of the other's reluctance to push the envelope.

"Hi," he said, lowering his book and smiling up at her.

"Hi."

"You're late," he noted.

"Not by much," she said in her defense. "I...fell asleep on my couch."

"You fell asleep!" he cried, faking hurt. She sat down next to him and leaned down to kiss him quickly, then she lay down with her head resting on his stomach. "And you're going to go to sleep again, aren't you?"

"Mhmm."

"So why did you even agree to meet me today?" he asked teasingly. She opened her eyes and looked over at him. The smile on his face made her heart race.

"Because if you haven't notice, I kind of like you," she said.

She looked away again, closing her eyes and clasping her hands on her stomach. He knew she had every intention of going to sleep, and as much as he loved the idea of them laying in the park like that, him reading and her sleeping against him in the sun, there was no way he could just let it happen. He was struck with a thought, a feeling, he needed to voice.

He smiled to himself when he realized that it didn't scare him at all, and he didn't regret it one bit, and it was just a fact, a part of his life.

"I'm falling in love with you," he stated. She looked over at him again, and he'd never seen that particular smile on her face before. "I am, Peyton."

"I've been falling in love with you all along, Luke," she said.

She was very well aware that she'd made it sound like she was already in love with him, and she didn't care. She was. She wouldn't use those words yet, she didn't know if he was ready to really hear them.

"Come here," he said softly, unable to really move given the way they were laying. She sat up, then he did. He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her like she'd wanted him to all day.

He wove their fingers together and she noticed that the tan line where his ring had been wasn't there anymore, and she found herself smiling. She knew she'd never replace Lindsey, and she didn't want to; that wasn't what she was. As she had started thinking not too long ago, maybe she was who Lucas was meant to be with, and they each had to go through all they'd gone through in order for them to be together.

Lucas lay down again, pulling her with him so she was laying against his side with his arm around her shoulders. His book was discarded on the grass next to them, and he noticed that there was not a single cloud in the sky. Not one. He sighed deeply enough that Peyton looked over at him.

"What?" she asked.

"You and I," he said simply. "We're...I think we were inevitable."

She smiled and shook her head, then she kissed him far more passionately than she should have. He had no idea why she was kissing him that way, but he certainly liked it. He'd just confirmed to her what she'd convinced herself of. They were brought together for a reason.

And he'd just explained their relationship using a term she'd had locked in her mind since Brooke had pointed it out that day months ago.

"So, you think so too," he said, smirking at her, his blue eyes shining.

Her heart was yelling at her to tell him that she loved him. Her head knew she had to wait. But when he looked at her like that, like he would never get enough of her, she was almost screaming it.

She nodded her head then lay her head against his chest again and took his hand. "Yeah," she said. "I think so too."

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
